Caterwaul
by Hesperides INC
Summary: There's no law stating that you're bound to get along with the individuals in your band. You may brake into fits of angry passion, fall in love, or coldly betray. The fame will rise and fall, and in this world of human vice there's always a price to pay.
1. Daylight Scrutiny

**Author**: Forsyte

**Editor:** Shiroppu Musume

**Disclaimer**: I do not own KH at all. Hell, I cannot even buy ice cream (cries)

Please do not read if you find the idea of two males together offensive. There is always the back button on your browser that you can utilize!

**Summary**: There's no law stating that you're bound to get along with the individuals in your band, with those you know and even those you don't. You may brake into fits of angry passion, fall in love, or coldly betray. The fame will rise and fall, and in this world of human vice there's always a price to pay.

* * *

_Caterwaul_

**Chapter One**: _Daylight Scrutiny_

The floor was covered with papers in an untidy fashion. Every piece of the wooden floor was covered in these white items, blending onto the floor as if to create a design. A small blond figure made his way through the jungle of papers while attempting to not step on their sheer whiteness for they might be used for an important purpose. He did not know what to expect when he entered the studio at nine after sunrise. For one, he was not a morning person. He woke up to birds chirping and that, in his opinion, did not lighten the day. As a reminder to himself to wake up extra early, he left his house at the break of dawn, not out of free will, of course. He put on a pair of faded-out brown pants, a raccoon t-shirt and his wrinkled jacket previously found at the foot of his bed. He glanced through the room to see if anyone was there. To the side he spotted the usual pink drums played by the bandleader. They seemed untouched by man since very long ago, for there was a ray of light illuminating its metal and failing to show signs of any human fingerprints. He heard a sound at the corner of the stage. He wondered who or what produced the sound. He inched closer to the source of the sound, expecting nothing short of boredom. Suddenly, a mess of red surfaced from the hidden arena of the solitude-filled corner. His figure towered over the small frame of Roxas. The red head had a pair of blue jeans with an olive green t-shirt, clearly giving off the appearance of a college student accustomed to putting on the first thing he spotted in the closet.

"Hey Roxy, what's cracking?" Blue met amused emerald. Roxas frowned.

"I am not in the mood early in the morning to hear your jabbering. Where's everyone else?" Roxas asked with an annoyed tone. His voice still held the morning raspy-ness of waking up.

"Well, Mr. Leader is in a CEO _importante _meeting with the manager." Axel replied with a lazy smile.

"I see … but you only covered one person, what about the other two?" Roxas retorted automatically.

"Jeez, take it easy. I didn't harass you…or at least not yet. Drink something and cool down."

For a split second, Roxas stopped breathing. His face expressed vexation and showed a tinge of scarlet on his cheeks. He instantly glared at the red head, using all of his intimidation ability to scare the demonic person in front of him. The red head didn't faze. It did not work.

"You know you like it." Axel winked at him with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Sorry I'm late; I stopped for Starbucks on the way here!" A blur of caramel and black dashed right in front of Axel and Roxas.

"Demyx, what's the rush? Practice hasn't started yet." Axel informed while crossing his arms.

"It hasn't?" the caramel haired teen responded. "Well. Either way, I have to prepare; I came up with a new melody"

The teen quickly took a spot next to the stage without taking notice of the people in his surroundings. In his hand he held a black case that he put down next to himself. He took off his black cotton jacket, and let it fall to the floor. The lump gave the impression of a black hole against the white papers on the ground. With the use of his toned arms, made visible by his sleeveless white shirt, he picked up his case again. The adolescent kneeled down on the ground. He gently placed his black case down once more. He hummed a tune as his energetic fingers grasped the metal clasps of the case that held his beloved bass. Roxas stared in awe. He wasn't sure if the Starbucks coffee woke up his fellow band member or what exactly, but he held high respect for Demyx at that moment. The boy had a plethora of energy in the morning, something Roxas lacked.

While Roxas was meditating on his not-so-energetic levels of the day, a discrete figure quietly entered the studio. He was dressed in black pants and a black coat that sported many extravagant buttons that shimmered with the artificial light of the studio. He seemed to not mind the scenery of activity before him. He took a position next to a chair on the far right of the wall, opposite the stage of his band members. He carefully slid off his black leather bag and carefully placed it on the chair. While he placed his items down, his silver charm bracelet made a sound, but not even the occupied band members could be distracted by such. Next, he set his case on the floor, but as he was about to reach for the locks, he felt a penetrating gaze upon him. The figure glanced up from his current position to discover the violator of his privacy; Axel stared at Zexion while he, in return, stared back.  
"Sometimes, I think you're a freaking spirit in the room. Seriously, you never talk—never announce yourself. You're really creepy." Axel confessed to Zexion.

A pause.

"…I see." He replied, with hesitation.

"Hey! Where's Marly?" Demyx abruptly questioned as he utilized a pick to play a few chords on his bass, testing the amplifier. He frowned. The amplifier was not set to a high resolution. Upon discovering the problem he rose and made his way to the electronic and increased its volume. He strung the string again. This time he achieved what he desired, a nice, low pitched sound worthy of producing a radiant smile on his face. Roxas stared at the caramel haired teen, an idea suddenly forming in his own mind. He walked over to the white door nearest to him which beheld the closet that had been constructed into the wall for extra storage. Without uttering a word, the blond opened it and robbed it of its microphone and stand. Then, he slowly moved over to the outlet and connected the microphone in hopes that his voice would echo throughout the room loudly. Catching on, Axel decided to return to his original place by the corner of the stage. There his electric guitar sat against a chair aching to be used. Zexion went back to the task of opening his black case. He slipped the guitar over his head as soon as he picked it out of its home and immediately adjusted the strap to his personal liking. He didn't want to hook up the guitar to the amplifier just yet; he simply wanted to play acoustic.

"Where is my Jamba Juice?" A loud, deep voice suddenly rang through the studio.

"How am I supposed to know?" Axel shouted back with an annoyed tone, "I ain't your keeper!"

Roxas stared at the demanding bandleader for a brief moment before glancing around the room in search of a tall, white drink container with fruits as a design. He couldn't see it anywhere. He glanced back at Marluxia. He noticed that the attire worn by the leader did not compare to that of the rest of the members. He wore the typical blue jeans but what caused Roxas to stare at his attire was the polo. The polo was of a light blue color. There was an emblem on the right side of the polo. It had the appearance of a sword wrapped around by a golden dragon. He then took notice of his facial features. He noticed in him a look of sheer boredom. His arms were crossed across his chest. He saw Marluxia tapping his booted foot with a quick beat. Demyx hadn't made eye contact with the man since his arrival and continued to glance down at his bass, engulfed by the copious pitches made by each string.

"Here." Zexion calmly answered Marluxia with the much-desired foam cup sporting a very multi-colored design. The tallest band member accepted it and casually turned away without a 'thank you'. Their level of comfort with one another was high, no need for manners.

"Well then, everyone, listen up. I have news." Everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on their leader.

"As you know, we are a new band. We need promotion and we need it _now_. We need to reach the Cypress Charts in a quick fashion. a.k.a., we need serious attention. The manager has just booked us for a photo shoot with _Birdcage _magazine. We'll be having this photo shoot and an upcoming interview in exactly two weeks from today. I believe we'll be wearing the same attire from our promotional video… the one that's being released in a month. Besides that, we need to practice. We have a live in less than a month." Marluxia finished, his breath never hindering at intake. Every member stared at him, listening unusually attentive. The same thought ran through all the members' minds: this is freakin' hell.

* * *

"What the hell?" The yelling only intensified the tension in the room. "Why the fuck are you leaving the band?" a dirty blonde angrily spat at his band member in disbelief. 

"See… it's not you, it's the fact that I am not achieving anything in this band. I don't feel I'm reaching my full potential with you people." a tall figure with silvery long hair stated with a subtle hint of boredom. His eyes were glued to the wall, never attempting to bring his gaze into contact with the former.

"What the hell do you mean '_you people_'? We're a fucking band! How the hell are we suppose to replace you? Fans already _know_ you! Two years. Two fucking years you've stayed with us and now you want to _leave_?" An infuriated Seifer yelled in rage. His jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body shook with fury

"True, but have we really done such a great job?" Sephiroth countered, "Do we have a number one single? No. That's pretty pathetic coming from such a well-known band. I prefer to go solo and do a much better job. It's the only way I'm going to get what I want." Sephiroth coldly replied matter-of-factly.

"Fuck you, go to hell and rot!"

Cloud and Zack stared silently in amazement. They could not believe that their band was facing this problem. Sure, other bands went through this, but _theirs_? Seifer abruptly turned from Sephiroth in irritated disgust and quickly paced out of the room, taking most of the nearly tangible anger with him. Cloud stared at Sephiroth. Frankly, he never liked him, but he could see why Seifer was angry. Cloud knew Sephiroth was a great guitarist and extremely charming towards the fans. Zack watched Sephiroth with a hint of frustration in his eyes.

"Well, goodbye." Zack quickly cut in with hurt disappointment in his voice. He walked out of the meeting room. Sephiroth glanced at Cloud.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I have nothing to say to you." Cloud didn't want to speak to his betrayer. Instead, he proceeded forward towards the exit.

"You are a great drummer." The words instantly paralyzed the blond youth. "I don't see why you have to waste your talent on this futile band. You should come with me. You know, the two of us could make it to the charts… right to the very top."

Cloud hesitated. How could he leave his band? He treasured it as if it were made of his very own flesh and blood. It was his life. He could not betray the band in this or any fashion. Never.

A pause.

"Thank you," The blond politely stated, "but I'm not going to leave my life behind." He walked through the frame of the door, shutting it on his way out, willingly prepared to never see Sephiroth again.

* * *

"Oh man, my brain is pounding…" Demyx commented to himself. He felt the need to be in total solitude, away from the personified noises of the busy studio session. 

"Why don't I help that pounding become pleasurable?" huffed a voice behind his neck. Demyx froze. The tone of the speaker caused his body temperature to rise. The breath engulfed his skin with a heated, pleasurable sensation. His skin felt numb all of a sudden from the mere shock.

"Do I have permission?" Marluxia whispered into Demyx's ear. The so-called request wasn't even a question. He gently pressed his lips against Demyx's earlobe, ready to nibble on the other's sensitive skin. Demyx shivered. He felt sensation rising in and out of his body. He made his neck lean to the right side in order to let Marluxia captivate his earlobe even further. Marluxia gleefully toyed with Demyx's earlobe, rubbing his teeth against the sensitive skin. Demyx felt an urge to resist the sensual action.

"Mar- Marluxia, we only have 15 minutes for break. We need to finish practicing. Plus, I want some water. My throat is parched!" Demyx replied with a hint of exasperation.

The older male smirked. "You're no fun. You know we can make something out of 15 minutes." Marluxia replied with much predator-like amusement. Demyx instantaneously blushed. Marluxia placed an arm around Demyx's waist, pulling the caramel blonde closer against his own heated body. He put a hand under Demyx's shirt, feeling the younger's flat stomach against his own skin.

"No, not now Marluxia," Demyx semi-pleaded, "someone could walk in here and get the wrong idea…" Marluxia withdrew his devious hand out of Demyx's shirt and turned his body 180 degrees, the act making it possible for both to stare directly into each other's eyes. He gently placed his palm on one of Demyx's cheeks and cupped it in his hand.

"Don't worry. It won't be the wrong idea." Marluxia coolly stated as he swiftly landed his lips on top of Demyx's. The caramel teen did not know what to do. He stayed stiff for 5 minuscule seconds until Marluxia pulled him even closer against his warm, heaving chest. Finally, Demyx gave into the blissful kiss. Their physical embrace and sound products were the only things warming the otherwise cold and uninhibited room. They only parted until there was an insufficient amount of oxygen for the two bodies. Demyx heaved in the studio air, his agitated breathing disrupting the former quiet. His cheeks were flushed. His eyes were closed, he could not open them. If he did, the memory of the unspeakable motion would disappear into the past.

"Again?" Marluxia asked not even a minute after. He inched closer into Demyx's lips, ready to take them again in guilty pleasure. Demyx could feel Marluxia's breathing coming closer towards his face. He just couldn't resist the flamboyant pink haired man.

The door to the studio opened. The room went into deep silence. Marluxia and Demyx tore away from their former activity only to see Zexion holding the handle of the door, expressionless. Zexion stared. He closed the studio door with a bit of haste. Demyx removed himself from Marluxia's embrace.

"Shit." Demyx was extremely flushed in embarrassment and previous arousal. He bit his lower lip and hid his face with his hands in a childish manner. "He saw." He felt very hot all of a sudden. Slowly, he stood up and parted with Marluxia's affectionate hands. The latter shot him a glance of interest.

The door suddenly opened yet again but this time with a thundering force. Roxas entered the room with a flushed face, anger written in his features. Axel quickly entered after him but much more relaxed than the younger, in fact, sort of amused.

"Roxas! C'mon! It wasn't my intention for you to trip and fall into my arms." There was a hint of enjoyment in his tone. "Honest, I never intended it to happen!" Axel said with a slight grin on his face.

"You foul mustard seed! I know you did! You and your stupid banana peels!" Roxas yelled back at Axel in embarrassed irritation, "What if my head had crashed on the floor?! What then? You'd have no vocalist!" The shortest band member angrily spat at Axel. His blood veins were visible around his temples, no doubt a product of his fury. Roxas took in a long, needed breath. He tightly clenched his fists. His knuckles were becoming white with every second he stood in silence attempting to calm himself down.

"And for your information, I don't need people carrying me! I can walk, thank you very much!" Roxas walked over to a chair a few feet ahead of him. On the object rested his brown bag. He untidily slipped out a folder that contained many unorganized papers, some of the pages ready to fall out. He opened it and quickly took notice of what he wanted, a blue paper.

"Here, I came up with some new lyrics. We could use them for our next single."

Demyx was currently tending to his bass and setting up the amplifier on the small stage. Marluxia waltzed over to his magenta drums and took a sip of his Jamba Juice set atop of his equipment.

"Why is the paper blue?" inquired Axel, wanting to know why Roxas wrote his lyrics on a blue paper. He usually wrote them on white paper, like a normal person, to Axel's understanding.

"Maybe because the paper's sad." Demyx innocently cut in before Roxas could respond. Silence fell upon the members.

"I do not think that Axel was referring to the paper's emotional well-being, Demyx" explained Marluxia.

Zexion appeared once again, this time with book in hand as he made his way over to his undisturbed guitar. Marluxia stared at Zexion. He wondered how the dark-haired boy could read and walk at the same time so very successfully.

"Hey sexy, whatcha reading? The dictionary?" Axel questioned Zexion.

"No." Zexion tersely replied. He sat down on the chair next to his acoustic guitar. He seemed unconscious of the current situation before him. Demyx stood besides Roxas overlooking the blue lyric paper. He smiled.

"This is good Roxas! I think I can compose some kind of beat to it." Demyx said with an excited tone in his voice.

"I suggest you put in a lot of riffs for the guitar. I need to show off my amazing skills to all my adoring fans." Axel put in with a cocky tone while winking at Demyx.

"The lyrics don't require heavy guitar playing." opposed Roxas.

"Enough of this, we need to practice our current songs. Shall I remind all of you that we have a live coming up?" Marluxia interrupted with a hint of irritated boredom.

"Damn Marluxia, don't act like you have something up your hole! Or …maybe that's what you're _lacking_?" Axel grinned. He knew just how to tick Marluxia off with the right words.

"Silence, you freak of nature." Marluxia spat and threw a bag of Doritos straight at Axel's face. The devious being caught the bag in time before it inflicted any type of mark on his stunning face.

"Thanks for the food, Marly!" He winked. "I know you have a stash in the back of those pinky drums of yours. You should share more often and try to watch your figure." Axel tauntingly warned Marluxia as he walked back to his equipment at the hidden corner of the stage. Marluxia let out a disapproving grunt and sent a death glare towards the direction of the red head.

"Alright!" Demyx exclaimed with triumph in his voice. "I am done setting up my amp! Let's get a rockin'!" Marluxia picked up his pink drum sticks and hit one of the right cymbals on his drum as a sign of readiness.

"Wait, I need to tune my guitar just a little bit more. I can't get the right level on the amp." Axel informed. He fumbled with the chords a bit until he managed to produce the right sound out of his guitar.

"Hells yeah! Ready to cause some violence in this place!" Axel yelled whilst strumming a chord on his guitar, energetically bouncing on stage.

"Testing. 1, 2, 3. Testing—" Roxas froze just as Axel raced up and began strumming his guitar against the blond's back, the posterior of their bodies touching.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Roxas with annoyance clear in his voice. He moved a bit farther from the red head.

"I am preparing for the live just like Marly told us to." Axel answered. "We need to pretend this is a live, right?"

"Right!" chirped in Demyx as he took his position off far back left on the stage.

"Fine." Roxas replied with a sigh of defeat. Axel grinned. Zexion gathered his reading material and put it carefully inside his bag. The teen then picked up his acoustic guitar and took his position on stage, at the right anterior to Marluxia.

"Alright! Everyone together!" Roxas exclaimed pretending the practice was indeed a live.

"We are the J-Walkers!" Everyone yelled in unison.

"Au!" Roxas semi-howled, his energy level automatically rising, as he jumped off the stage, ready to attack the first song on the list for their first live of the year.

* * *

**A/N:** There you go! The first chapter! I am quite tired. I took a long time to write this. I will write more as soon as I can. Please comment! Thank you! 


	2. Expect a Rushed Press Conference

**Author**: Forsyte

**Editor:** shiroppu musume

**Disclaimer**: I do not own KH at all. Hell, I cannot even buy ice cream. (cries)

Please do not read if you find the idea of two males together offensive. There is always the back button on your browser that you can utilize!

**Summary**: There's no law stating that you're bound to get along with the individuals in your band, with those you know and even those you don't. You may brake into fits of angry passion, fall in love, or coldly betray. The fame will rise and fall, and in this world of human vice there's always a price to pay.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Expect a Rushed Press Conference **

"In today's entertainment news, the guitarist of the Visual Kei band _Infidel_, Sephiroth, has suddenly left the group due to the rising success of his solo projects." A woman of twenty-six years of age stated "We managed to receive a commentary from the ex-guitarist himself."

"Mr. Sephiroth, what is your reason for leaving the band?" A man holding a microphone too close to Sephiroth's face inquired. Sephiroth's eyebrows rose in superiority as a smirk tucked at the ends of his lips, waiting to pronounce his response.

"My talent as a musician will flourish in a better environment, that being one of a solo career. That's my reason—I do not disown the band. No more comments, thank you." The silver-haired male haughtily concluded as he casually turned, his lustrous hair caught in a wave as he walked away from the reporter.

* * *

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" questioned a pair of infuriated blue eyes, "We lack a fucking member at the moment." 

"See," the raven haired male started, "we need to find someone who can replace him. Look on the damn bright side," he smiled, "we don't have to look at that silver hair on stage anymore. In all honesty, the stupid thing blinded me."

Two sapphire irises stared at the figures before them. It was quite early in the morning. The clock nailed on the wall demonstrated the time of 3 AM. The self proclaimed "leader" of the group had called an emergency meeting at his apartment.

"Put an ad on the internet. Some fucking idiot's gonna have to join the damn group." ordered Seifer with some determination.

"Easier said then done, Seifer." Zack replied as he directed his gaze at the vocalist, "I don't think this 'fucking idiot' wants to be called an idiot, though, so try not to scare him away whenever we meet him."

Cloud could see that Zack did not find Seifer's mannerisms unusual. He knew that Seifer became practically insane when it came to something that truly mattered to him. The blond silently wished he was back in his warm bed. He needed sleep. He was suffering from sleep deprivation from yesterday. His mind was consumed of many thoughts concerning the group. Even though his mother was right when telling him that the life of an artist is a difficult one, he still liked the fact that he had a job he actually enjoyed. He didn't mind working a part time job as an assistant chef at an Italian restaurant to fund his band, or that his apartment was on the bad side of town—nor did he mind having to walk actively everyday because he owned no car. His daily strolls to the studio were always accompanied by random runners jogging bedsides him in the morning. These vivacious adults held more energy then he did most times. He felt a little incompetent compared to them, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy his walking exercise every morning. He'd been doing it for a year now.

Zack withdrew his gaze from Seifer and shifted his line of vision over to the computer sitting in the corner of the room.

"Seifer, can I use your bathroom to take a shower?" Cloud asked while standing up from his previous sitting position on the floor. Seifer broke the penetrating gaze he was giving the couch to look up at Cloud.

"What the hell do you need a bath for?" Seifer inquired, hand at hip. "Dude, I haven't taken a bath for two days."

Cloud lifted an eyebrow and spoke as if in a whisper, "And you wonder why people talk back to you…" Cloud turned in the direction of the hallway. "I didn't need to know that."

Amused, Zack looked up from his typing to stare at Seifer and throw Cloud a glance.

"Is this all we talk about?" He laughed, "Damn it, Seifer, let Cloud in your shower. I'm next. I think I'm also going to borrow your clothes." finished Zack with half a drunken smile, a product of late night vigils and the terribly comfortable, oversized computer chair. Seifer sighed.

"Why _my_ clothes? No way in hell are _you_ worthy of them!" Seifer hissed.

"Fine. You want me to walk around butt-naked in your apartment and sit on your chairs?" Zack grinned, "I mean, if you like me that much I'll do it." Seifer imitated a gagging motion, and then frowned.

"I do not need you showing your ugly ass around my apartment. What the fuck? And _Hell no,_ I do not like you!" Seifer spit back, demonstrating his irritation at the others' behavior.

"You know you like him, Seifer." Cloud smiled, joining Zack's tease. "Stop denying it."

"You damn bitches, hard to please." And with that friendly remark Seifer stomped his way over towards the kitchen in hopes that food may comfort his angered soul.

"You know you love us, Seifer." boasted Zack with a laugh from the computer chair. He let his gaze infiltrate the internet once again in search for a new member that will come to suffer the wrath of Seifer. He grinned as this thought filled his mind. He liked the idea of a new member. He liked the idea of getting to know a new person that will, hopefully, be with the group for many years to come. They can become as close as brothers. Then, suddenly, he recalled a website in which people posted advertisements seeking band members. He quickly put his plan in action as he swiftly typed away on the keyboard, portraying through every line, every word, even every comma the essence of _Infidel_ into a simple announcement.

Cloud saw that Zack was glued to the computer and that Seifer had gone into the kitchen in annoyance, so he turned his torso onto the hallway and proceeded. He took a towel from the hidden cabinets on the hallway wall and made his way over to the bathroom. He grabbed the handle of the shabby, worn-out brown door and twisted the silver knob to arrive at his destination.

He entered the blue tiled restroom with much tiredness and bloodshot eyes. He opened the moldy transparent shower door and turned the knob for water. The pouring liquid came rushing down onto the cracked cerulean tile. He needed to measure the temperature of his water; he didn't want to suffer ungodly burns nor did he want to experience a cold Alaskan morning in the shower. He extended his arm and cautiously dipped the back of his hand in the tiny waterfall. Once he felt that the water was at the right temperature, he closed the wooden door behind him and started to undress. He pulled off his white cotton shirt. It was the first thing visible in the pile of clothing on the floor. He then made his way to discard his leather black belt and later his faded jeans. He bent down and tugged at his white socks with tiny holes at the bottom. Finally, he casually slipped off his Eeyore boxers. He opened the door with a creek and lazily got into the shower, everything he'd longed for since this morning.

The warm water shattered like glass against his overheated body, the culprits being his snug bed covers, those he had been so rudely awaken from. He cupped his hands together and extended them towards the transparent liquid. The water poured down from the faucet, the drops quickly tumbling one after the other and marking their paths against the wall and his body. A ring of mold surrounded the rusted piece of metal. Cloud's mind wandered to the previous events that had occurred during the past week. His hand tapped over the running water with a subconscious motion. A new member in the band seemed like a good idea, in his opinion. He did not like that silver haired man taking all the fans' attention. All of the members needed the same amount of exposure in order to receive some notice. When it came to Sephiroth, however, he got all of the attention, nonpareil.

'With a new member,' Cloud thought, 'comes a new image. Does that mean I'll have to change my drums?' He put a finger to his chin and held a pensive look as he stared at the tile next to the liquid-stained silver handles that controlled the flows of cold and hot water.

"Yo, Cloud, answer the fucking phone!" a voice yelled from the other side of the steam-hidden door. Startled, Cloud broke his concentrated gaze from the tile and turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Did you hear me? Do you want me to open the fucking door and see your naked ass or are you going to grab the phone from my hand?"

"What the hell?" Cloud lowly stated to himself. A beeping sound was heard. "What? Why—"

A click and the sound of a door opening were heard.

"No time to think, here!" Cloud could see a hand dangling from the top of the shower door, holding a black electronic. Cloud took it. It noisily beeped in his hand. He pressed the talk button on the device to answer the ringing machine that so unexpectedly disturbed his shower.

"Hello?" Cloud answered with a clear hint of fatigue in his voice.

"Hello? Cloud, is that you? Can I talk to Seifer? This is important."

"Yes, just a moment, Mrs. Stockman."

Cloud put his thumb against the receiving pores of the phone so as to prevent the caller from hearing any movement in the room. He opened the shower door and grabbed the white towel that was hanging from a rusted, silver horizontal pole, located under a small, foggy glass window. He wrapped the worn out towel around his waist and opened the door of the bathroom. He felt a sudden chill run down his spine. The morning air was indeed sharp and cold. He did not like the feeling of being wet and running throughout the house covered by only a single piece of cloth. That idea and the fact that he was dripping were both largely in his mind. He cautiously walked, aware that the floor was wood, towards the living room in hopes of finding Seifer and Zack still at the computer discussing the member problem. He caught sight of dirty blond locks dangling from the worn leather couch.

"Seifer, it's Mrs. Stockman."

"What?"

"She says it's important."

"Gimme the phone!" Seifer hissed as he immediately rushed over and ripped the phone out of Cloud's grasp.

"Yes? Oh, Mrs. Stockman. Yes, I know. No, I know I owe the rent. Yes, I have three weeks." He spoke quickly, a hurried jabber of words. "Yeah. Alright. Thanks." He hung up the phone with the click of a button.

"Yo, assholes, lend me some money."

* * *

A dark green mini van drove up towards the direction of a secluded parking lot where a building that had no sign for a name was located. The pavement was neatly cemented with no cracks in sight. There were small patches of green where plants had been placed in order to create an atmosphere of beauty and tranquility. The little birds in the ever growing trees sang their morning song of glee. The roaring engine of the spacious van drew to a halt as it was neatly parked into the lot under the protection of a leafy tree. With a click, a door opened ever so slightly. The driver diligently got out of the mini van. He inspected the vicinity for any familiar figures with mere glances as he walked towards the back of the van. He stopped as soon as he reached the compartment; he extended his right hand forward until it came into contact with the handle. With force, he pulled the clasp down and then used his left hand to take a hold of the door and lift it up towards the sky. As the door slowly opened, so did his expression gradually change, brows furrowing and forehead wrinkling. 

"Shit. The plants fell." exclaimed Marluxia softly at the sight of dirt and green-life mix. They'd been tossed around the area with the automobile's movement, causing them to soil the cream colored van carpet. He quickly took one of the cheerful daffodils in his hands and put it back into its little plastic container. He did not want his precious children to be ruined. He needed to save them; he needed to save them _fast_.

Just as the pink haired man attempted to place dirt into another container to ready it for another plant, he instead reached into his jeans and extracted a lavender Razor. He speed-dialed a number and held the phone in position with the aide of his shoulder and the side of his head as he reached down once again with both hands and rescued a tulip. A red rose charm dangled from the cell phone with each movement he made.

"Hello? Yes, Demyx? Are you in the studio? What? You are driving? Fine. No. Bye."

Marluxia grabbed the phone from its position and speed-dialed another number. Apparently, his lover was of no use right now. He was hoping someone else would pick up.

"Hello? Yes, this is Marluxia. Do not be surprised. Are you in the studio? No, you are with your Dad eating pancakes… You know that we have practice today, right? Bye."

Another failed attempt at recruiting a helper. Why was Zexion _always_ with his father? He should be more responsible and come early to the studio, or at least this was what Marluxia thought as he dialed a third number hoping that someone would come to his aid.

"Hello, Roxas? What? You're at school? You have detention. . . I see. Bye." Marluxia sighed. Why did the world hate him? He swallowed in a breath of fresh air. He had only one more person to call and this was not going to be pretty.

"Hello? What? Where are you? No, this not a fucking prank call, Axel. I. Need. Coffee. No, that's not what I meant. I need your assistance. Where are you? You are one block away. Okay. When you get here come to where our group mini van is parked. No, do not ask questions. I don't have the time!" half way through their conversation Marluxia hanged up the phone and stopped his band mate from finishing his last sentence.

'Well, that conversation went well.' thought Marluxia as he gathered a daisy in his palms and gently placed it into a container full of nutrients.

A minute passed by and Marluxia heard the roar of a battered engine drive up behind him. He knew full well who it was.

"Yo, why did you call me, pink hair?" inquired Axel as he exited his old 1980 red Camero. He roughly closed the door to his car and walked towards Marluxia with an air and smirk of superiority. Marluxia was not facing the newcomer, instead his back was turned, not revealing but keeping secret his front features.

"Grab this." the older male stated as he handed Axel a small, thin plastic pot. The red head stared at his now-covered-in-dirt hand with confusion. He quirked an eyebrow as he lifted his head towards the direction of the older figure and in the process suddenly catching a glimpse of the unfortunate condition of their mini van, the one their band heavily relied on for traveling.

"Marluxia … what the _hell_ did you do to our van?" Axel interrogated with a raised tone, slight anger noticeable in his spoken words.

Marluxia lightly sighed.

"Look, I can explain this later. Take these flowers into the studio. Treat them very delicately—as if they were your children," he looked him right in the eye, "or you will suffer the consequences." Axel looked unimpressed.

"What are you guys doing?" A certain caramel-haired male questioned as he approached the two bickering men by the mini van, shoving dirt into flimsy, little plastic containers and planting in freshly rescued plants. Both Axel and Marluxia looked up to see the newcomer.

"Demyx—just in time! Help this pink haired idiot restore these things. They turned our van into shit." Axel commented as he brusquely put down a potted flower and rubbed his hands together to rid of the dirt on his palms. He began to casually walk towards the studio, not desiring to mingle in nonsense that truly did not concern him. Marluxia glanced at Demyx.

"What are you holding in your hand?" he asked as he spotted a square case in the younger male's hand.

"Oh, this? It just arrived for me. I got it out of the mail box as I was leaving my house. It's the new _alice nine._ single, _WHITE PRAYER_—it's good." Demyx informed with a slightly hoarse voice.

"You don't seem that excited for your new toy." Marluxia replied with a cocked eyebrow.

"I am!" exclaimed the youth, alarmed that the older male may think otherwise, "It's just that I don't feel too well."

"I see." commented the flamboyant man without giving Demyx a second glance.

"Marluxia," Demyx casually instigated, "remember you said that you would help me out with the poor and whatnot?" No reply. "Well, I'm going to a soup kitchen today and I want you to come with me. They need more people today since the kids that usually volunteer are taking finals right now and can't make it and stuff."

"You want me to go?" a slight smile, "Why not? I can donate money and food. Is that all you need?" Marluxia asked as he turned his attention back to his children.

"No! Marluxia, I meant_ serving_ the poor!" Demyx corrected as a fit of coughing hit his senses.

"What? Me, _serve_? I do not—"

"Please?" Demyx cooed, "I need help. Many poor people need your help and you would be doing me a great favor."

"What do you mean by serving the poor? I _am _serving the poor; I'll be donating food. That is all they need." Marluxia replied.

"No, that is not what I meant. I meant come with me to the—"

"What do I receive in return?" Marluxia cut-in as he held a chrysanthemum in his right hand. He gently stroked the petals of the white flower as he looked in the direction of his lover with slight irritation. At this rate none of his plants were going to be saved, he thought.

"You get to have that nice, warm feeling inside from knowing that you've helped someone out in life." Demyx answered, inching closer towards the pink haired man.

Marluxia straightened up, raising his gaze, trying to strike a bit of intimidation in the figure before him.

"What if I say 'no'?" countered Marluxia, semi-annoyed.

"I… please!" Demyx inched even closer with an expression of mere desperation. "I can come over and cook for you! I'll make anything you want!"

Marluxia raised one of his thin, salon-threaded eyebrows. Maybe this plan of "serving" the poor sounded like a good idea. He did enjoy Demyx's company very much, especially when Demyx slept over at his luxurious apartment. Marluxia caringly put down the plant he was holding and stared at his lover. His hand tenderly stroked one of Demyx's cheeks, his gentle movement coming to a halt when his fingers fell upon the other's lips.

"I can't resist that offer." His lips dangerously curved into a slight smirk, "I'll go with you to serve. We'll take my car; leave your car at home and I'll pick you up."

Marluxia's fingers gently grazed Demyx's lips in a slow, teasing manner. The younger's blue-green eyes focused on the figure before them. The caramel blond felt a sudden flicker of warmth engulf his body simply by the mere touch of the soft caresses from the beautiful man before him. He slowly closed his eyes in hopes of registering and recording each and every pleasurable, ardent sensation—the touch his lover produced. He paid no attention to his current location—an open public space—or to the slightly rough feel Marluxia's soiled palms created against his soft cheek. A sigh escaped the youth's sensitive lips. The soft exasperation of air drew a fully developed, fully satisfied smirk on Marluxia's face.

"Should I take that as a 'yes' then?" inquired Marluxia as his predator eyes nearly ate Demyx up with much gusto. Demyx reopened his eyes just as he was about to reply but was suddenly cut-off by a woman's shout somewhere from behind them.

"Idiots, get in here!" the voice demanded in clear irritation, "You have rehearsal! Marluxia, I need to talk to you!"

Marluxia mentally slapped himself. He did not like his intimate moments being interrupted, but luck had obviously not been on his side for the past few days. Larxene would hear this concern of his when they went out for dinner on Thursday. He knew his colleague meant well—he hoped—after all, she was the manager of his band.

"Let's go inside before Larxene has us both for lunch."

"What about your plants? I mean, you worked hard to save them…" Demyx questioned as he took back a few steps to glance at the full damage the cargo department of their tour mini van had suffered.

Marluxia glimpsed back with a sadden expression on his face. His face quickly recovered its stoic look, however. He looked at Demyx.

"I can buy new ones if they die."

Demyx stared at the older man in worried disbelief, his brain too occupied to transmit signals of movement down to his legs; he looked on, glued to his current location. Sometimes Demyx could not believe Marluxia's actions. The man was a walking contradiction.

Marluxia kept on giving the van quick glances with an annoyed expression as they walked towards the studio. His face no longer contained its previous calm composure, but an expression of irritation and agitation, all visible in his features.

"Are you sure it's OK to leave them there?" Demyx asked again. He could see the secret glances Marluxia shot the mini van. Their conversation was interrupted yet again by the same loud voice echoing through the parking lot.

"Hey, you wannabe rockers get your asses in here or I'm quitting!" the angered voice rang all over the parking lot. The lovely sound vibrated throughout the concrete causing the loitering birds to jump up with fear.

Demyx turned his head in all imaginable directions, attempting to find the source of the voice. His curious blue eyes searched and searched in vain. He looked at Marluxia, tilting his head with an expression of confusion on his youthful face.

"That was Larxene's second warning; let's go, Demyx." Marluxia said as he pressed down on his keychain remote, locking the mini van with a _click_ from the automatic locks. "Oh, and by the way, Larxene is shouting up from the roof of the building." He pointed with a glance, "She says she gets a better view of who comes and goes from there."

* * *

"Roxas, Roxas wake up!" 

The blond could hear some sort of sound off in the distance, but didn't feel the need to be disturbed. His head started pounding with a sudden pain. A headache was surfacing from his interior. All his muscles were sore from last night. He had stayed up all night writing and composing a new song for the band. When work had to be done, Roxas believed sleeping was not necessary. Too many things could be accomplished in the night. Its quiet and cool environment allowed a person to focus and dedicate their time to blossoming thoughts.

Right at this moment though, things weren't going quite his way.

"Roxas!"

"_Roxas_! Get up! The teacher'll come in any minute and give you even more detention for sleeping in class!"

"Huh?" Roxas lifted his head off his tired arms in a sleepy, sloppy manner. He blinked three times before his pupils adjusted to the classroom lighting. His mouth produced a yawn of exhaustion. He dumbly shook both of his arms—the pressed weight of his head had numbed them both and left him with tiny, sharp tingling sensations. This caused great ache for the blond teen.

Suddenly, without warning, a loud _smack_ was heard, pushing Roxas's head slightly forward and dealing him a good amount of occipital pain. A hand had hit the back of his head.

"Ahhh—what was _that_ for?!" Roxas hoarsely cried. The siesta had not only affected his eyesight but his vocal cords, too.

A big grin was plastered all over Kairi's face, "That was for sleeping in detention." She sat back down in her seat, next to an energetic brunet throwing paper balls up in the air.

"Why do we have to_ be_ here?" whined Sora as he stared at the ceiling and started counting the number of tiles out of sheer boredom.

"It's not _my_ fault you let the frog lose." Kairi defended as she watched both boys with disapproving looks.

"Look who's talking! You're the one who ran for it with the damn frog in your hands!" Roxas irritably reminded as he tried to massage down his headache. He needed a pain killer, and he needed it _now_. He sighed. "It was going to die either way."

"Don't say that, Roxas!" Sora alarmingly cried, "We've just saved the life of a living creature!" he put a fist to his chest in pride, grin and all, "we've rescued it from cruel scientific experimentation!"

Roxas frowned. "It was Biology class! It was meant to die!" he exclaimed vehemently with hands in the air for emphasis. Another tired sigh, "I only helped you two because you guys are my friends."

"That's really touching, Roxas, but you didn't have to do that." smiled Kairi. "Really, this bonehead could have just done it himself, but you know how clumsy he is!"

Sora shot her a funny face, "Who are you calling a bonehead?" He sat upright in his chair and stared at Kairi with his signature pout.

The classroom door opened just as Roxas was about to pronounce a word in response. A tall man sporting a military haircut and dark-rimmed glasses walked into the room. His mere presence seemed to bring with it a chilly wind and a good ten degree drop in temperature. This man surely deserved everyone's silence and respect, or so Roxas thought. Suddenly, the intimidating figured locked eyes with Roxas, the penetrating gaze scaring the teen into straightening up and sitting upright. He did not blink even once as he looked on at the tall, brown haired aging man.

"Alright, all of you take out your handbook and open up to page 84 and start copying down the policy on vandalism. All 15 pages of it, and turn it in once you are finished." The professor spoke loudly and clearly, his stare never having once faltered on all three adolescents. "And no talking, none what so ever."

A community sigh of three was heard from the ever-so-excited teens in the Biology 101 room.

* * *

"Look, Marluxia, it's not my fault that the vocalist and one of the guitarists isn't here." Larxene slicked back her hair with a smooth hand movement. "A reporter for _In the N.E.W.S_ magazine is here to do a short interview—it's fine with three members." She shrugged her shoulders and gave her hand a few little waves down, "It's all publicity in the end." 

"Fine." accepted Marluxia as he was entering the studio where his band mates were tuning their instruments.

"Hey, band practice is canceled. Roxas called and said he couldn't make it; he has detention and then a test in the morning." Marluxia explained, sitting down on the nearest chair he could find.

"What subject?" Demyx asked.

"Biology." replied the older man, running a hand through his glossy, shoulder-length hair.

"Oh." Demyx said as he stopped connecting his bass to the amplifier and rolled up the cord to securely conceal it in a black case for safe keeping.

"Well then. Do we have the day off?" Axel asked as he put down his guitar and looked at the bandleader.

"Not completely." Marluxia replied, crossing one of his legs and holding a look of irritation. "This is the thing; there is a reporter for _In the N.E.W.S_ magazine and she wants to do a quick interview. It is quite mandatory so all of you fix your damn hair in the dressing room or even the restroom and get your asses back here in 10 minutes, no later."

"Oi, touchy." Axel commented. "Go take a diet pill; I think all the fat's clogged the little kindness in your heart."

The red head paced himself out of the studio before Marluxia glared at him.

"Are you alright Marluxia?" Demyx wondered as he saw his lover's frustrated expression.

"I am fine. I do not like things to be unexpected if they'll require thinking," Marluxia responded with a bit of a sigh as he got up and started making his way towards Demyx. He lay a hand to Demyx's cheek, softly, and brushed the younger's lips with the thumb of his right hand, as though they were a delicate item. A quick kiss on the lips and then work; Marluxia was at the studio door opening it with much manly grace. Demyx remained in his position for a minute and slowly traced the other's touch on his cheek. At times like these Demyx couldn't help but remain speechless, he was at awe with that man.

A medium height blonde woman entered the room with a look of pure frustration.

"Demyx, are you ready?" Larxene angrily called out to the caramel blond. The powerful voice woke Demyx up from his dream-like state. At first, he believed he saw a mirage; Larxene in front of him, mouth almost foaming in anger—nothing too interesting. But then he realized that there _was_ someone in the room, not an illusion.

"Huh—yes, yes I am, where do I go?" Demyx asked in a shaky voice. He suddenly sneezed. Larxene raised an eyebrow at the sudden sound.

"I hope you're not sick. Go to the first meeting room on your right. The interview lady is already there."

"Ah, yeah. Thank you." He nervously hurried towards the meeting room. He did not want to be late. Nor did he want to cause a bad impression. He didn't want people to hate him. He wanted to see the smiling faces of everyone he met. He did not want to be the cause of someone's frowning.

Demyx opened the door and saw three chairs lined up next to each other, all three facing a single seat on the opposite side. Axel was already there seated in one of the chairs on the edge. The interviewer was talking to the flame haired guitarists as Demyx walked in and sat himself in the middle chair. The interviewer took notice.

"You must be Demyx. I am Ayu. I am very happy to meet you." said the interviewer as she extended a hand for Demyx to shake as a greeting gesture. Demyx took her hand and lightly shook it. She had a smile cast about her face. This helped ease Demyx's nerves. Her black curls bounced with her head's every movement. Her rectangle-framed glasses gave the impression of intellect; very poise and ready for the job.

"Hello, I am very happy to be interviewed." Demyx brightly smiled at the interviewer.

Just as the young woman was about to say a few words, Marluxia came into the room wearing sun glasses and a scarf. All stared. He took the seat next to Demyx. He gracefully crossed his right leg and made himself comfortable on the foldable chair.

"Well then, is this it? I thought there were five members." the interviewer stated as she looked through her papers in a quick fashion.

"Yes that is true," Marluxia replied, "but right now the vocalist is in school; he values his education greatly. The bassist is out with his father on a very urgent family matter. I hope that will not be a problem for you." Marluxia said as he looked at the interviewer with a calm expression on his face. His tone of voice did not seem flawed; rather his voice was graceful with every syllable that he pronounced.

She looked a bit surprised. "No, that will not be a problem. I am very glad that the youngest member is quite interested in his education and his band. I am sure the fans will be encouraged by his actions as well. "

She held a pen and paper in her hands. She also had a recorder on the table ready to record the conversation.

"I hope so too, Ayu." Marluxia responded with a smirk.

"Alright this interview will not take long—I know all of you are busy people. Now, please introduce yourselves."

"We are _J-Walkers_. I am on drums, Marluxia."

"I am Demyx, on bass!"

"Axel, guitar."

"First question, how do you feel when your live is just in a week?"

"I feel quite excited." Marluxia nodded. "I am very glad that our hard work will finally be on display for the fans that have supported us throughout the year."

"I am also glad. I can't wait to show off who we are. We are very happy to be on stage." Demyx interjected with a smile on his face.

"I feel quite fine. I'm still awaiting the day that we'll show the whole country how we rock!" Axel answered determined, with hand motions.

Ayu nodded in agreement. "Next, a little background history for the fans: how did this band start?" the interviewer inquired as her pen made contact with the paper she was holding.

"The band started about a year and a half ago. Demyx and I met in college in a political science class. We casually stared talking and discovered that we both wanted to start a band. So, we joined forces." Marluxia finished as he threw Demyx a glance.

"I met Demyx in the instrument store. Of all places to meet your future band member, right? Yeah. So, anyway, we started talking guitars and then he convinced me to join. I also wanted to start a band, but I was looking for… how do I say it… 'perfect members.'" Axel shrugged. "Demyx brought me to his garage and Marluxia was there. We played some and then decided we should form a band together."

"What about the other two?" the interviewer questioned.

"Oh," Demyx responded, "Zexion was in my composition class. He's quite the genius. He is… what? Two years younger than me? Yeah. I saw him carrying a Visual Kei magazine and I kinda went up to him and asked him if he played an instrument and that's basically how we got our guitarist."

"Very unique," Ayu admitted, "What about the young one in the group?"

"Roxas? I saw him perform a solo in a chorus competition." answered Demyx.

"A _chorus_ competition?"

"Yes, well…" a nervous laugh, "I was in college chorus and we had a competition in Florida. Roxas was also there, in the high school division. We were looking for a vocalist at the time and after I saw him perform I knew he'd be a perfect addition to the band. I looked for him all over after the competition. Gave me quite the time, too! Ah, well, I met up with him at Disneyworld and found out he lived conveniently near us. So I gave him my number hoping he didn't think I was a weirdo. I was half expecting that he would not call me at all. I mean, after all, I am a stranger and he's just a high school student. He could have thought I was a stalker or something. He did call, though. I gave him my info and somehow he made it to our practice session."

"And that is how the band was formed." added Marluxia.

"What an interesting story! So, how did all five of you come up with your band name?"

"Quite simple," Axel responded, "we jay walked and almost got killed."

The interviewer nearly choked on her drink. Demyx worryingly patted her back before she recovered.

"It's true, I followed Axel." said Demyx with a sheepish smile, "It was getting late and my favorite bakery was going to close in five minutes so Axel suddenly jay walked and I followed. And like he said, we almost got killed. Jay walking is never an option!" the caramel-haired youth warned gravely, index finger erect.

"We use the name to symbolize a period of life in which people may want to take the easy way out but there really is none. Everyone has to work hard for what they want in life." Marluxia explained as he readjusted his sunglasses.

"So… the name represents man's foolish fights against nature's dictated law?" the interviewer clarified.

"Sure." replied Marluxia.

"Thank you very much for your kind words and explanations. Please give a small message to your fans."

"We hope that you enjoy our performance. We are very grateful to have this opportunity." smiled Marluxia.

"I am very excited to be onstage! I can't wait to see the faces of our fans out there!" waved Demyx at the recorder.

"Everyone, have fun—we'll rock the venue!" promised Axel.

* * *

­­­­ 

A rich brown colored, sticky substance came pouring down as the hand holding the bottle rotated its spreadings, extending its reach all around the fluffy surface of the flat food known as a pancake. It was afternoon, the time in which children come home for a late snack before dinner. The blue haired youth set down the bottle of syrup and placed it next to his plate. He grabbed the utensils besides him and lightly cut a piece from the item sitting on his plate. He lifted the fork to his mouth and with one bite took the soft cake into his mouth. He slowly chewed. He enjoyed this choice of food at anytime and at any place. It made him feel quite warm inside. He remembered the foiled attempts that his father made to make him these pancakes when he was younger. It was amusing. His mother had left when Zexion was at a tender age of three. His father tried his best to raise Zexion so that he'd have both a mother and a father in one parental figure. These pancakes, to him, symbolized everything; the tears, the pain, the laughs, the love—all experienced alongside his father. Being motherless wasn't so bad. He smiled as he recollected these thoughts of his while taking yet another bite of the fluffy food.

"Do you want some more?" a tall figure with jet black hair and small, rectangle glasses asked Zexion from across the kitchen, spatula at hand.

"No," Zexion politely replied as he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, "I'm alright Dad, thank you."

"Alright then." The cook replied as he used his spatula to deliver a pancake into an empty plate. He sat on the kitchen table across from his son, with apron and all.

* * *

Outside the window of a suburban home, elegantly parked, stood a red convertible. Its gleaming red paint shimmered under the bath of light that the mid afternoon sun rays produced. 

A pair of big, baby blue eyes stared through the window in curiosity. The little figure's hand traveled to the glass window. She lightly touched the window attempting to grasp the vehicle, keeping steady her gaze outside. A figure started making its way out of the car and she instantly hurried to the door. She halted as soon as she made it to the wooden rectangle at the front, her large eyes devouring the wood. She patiently waited, never removing the door from her sight as she waited for the person outside. Then, suddenly throughout the house, the sound of a doorbell rang. Paced footsteps came from behind the little girl. Demyx appeared and opened the door.

"Marluxia! You're here! Come in and wait, I need to get my bag." Demyx stated as he gestured inside. "I won't be long." He made his way towards a hallway and disappeared into the darkness as he lightly coughed.

Marluxia looked at the vanishing form. He took Demyx's advice and was going to take a seat on the couch but then he noticed a pair of eyes looking right at him from down below. Marluxia's eyes traveled to a little figure before him. He saw a little girl with blonde pigtails staring at him with curious eyes. She held her index finger to the tip of her lips. She blinked twice.

"Miss Alice, how are you?" Marluxia asked as he leaned down so that the little girl would be able to see him better. He took her little hand into his and gently kissed it. Marluxia held a special place for little things, among them children. He thought of them as his plants, innocent, fragile, and pure. Like his flowers, he thought children needed some kind of special care to grow up; they needed to be nurtured.

"Marluxia, sir, are you taking my brother away?" Alice asked, her interested gaze still intact.

"I am only taking him away for today and half of tomorrow. I will bring him back in the evening." Marluxia answered, patting the head of the petite creature before him. Alice pouted. Marluxia grinned at the gesture. The pout reminded him of Demyx when he tried to hide his protest.

"Don't worry. I will take care of him."

"Alice!" a sweet yet loud voice chimed throughout the living room. A petite woman with blonde hair walked out from a door connected to the living room. Her chirpy manner did not distort wrinkles on her lightly tanned skin. She smiled a big smile and her pearly white teeth showed with a sparkling radiance. Her cheeks had a hint of rose. She looked for the girl but took notice of the company. She smiled as she walked closer to the two figures at the front door.

"Marluxia! What a pleasant surprise! Where's Demyx? I thought you two had to leave soon?" she asked as she took the little girl's hand and sat her on the sofa. She motioned for Marluxia to take a seat.

"Quite right, Mrs. McKennedy."

The little girl jumped down from the creamy white sofa and was engulfed by the darkness of the hallway. Mrs. McKennedy looked on at the little girl wander off on her own. Her lips reformed a smile. She then directed her attention back to Marluxia.

"Well then, I will leave you. I have to go to a seminar at our local perish. We'll be singing to the Lord in thanks for the many things he has given me and my family." She smiled and stood, "I hope that Demyx doesn't cause trouble for you." Mrs. McKennedy waved as she walked off towards the kitchen.

The pink haired man sat there on the sofa, alone. He wondered what Demyx was doing. Then he saw something move behind the sofa in front. He glanced and saw blonde hair swaying as the little figure moved to conceal herself. It was Alice.

"Miss Alice, come out. I know you are there." Marluxia called out, amused.

She hesitantly came out. This time with her hair lose, only with a black head band to hold her yellow locks back. She looked up at Marluxia with cerulean eyes. The flamboyant man looked at the little girl's hand. He noticed she was holding onto a toy of some sort.

"What do you have there, Miss Alice?" inquired an amused Marluxia. He liked playing along with the child's antics.

"Oh, this?" Alice replied with a very polite tone. "This is Winnie the Pooh! Mother just bought him for me. He is ever so adorable." She commented as she took the yellow bear with both hands and hugged it.

"I see." Marluxia could just laugh. "I guess you like your new toy, right?"

"But of course!" Alice replied with a big grin. "Mr. Rabbit now has a new friend to play with."

"That is a good thing, then."

"Sir Marluxia, I do believe he reminds me of you." Alice said as she sat herself down at the sofa next to the pink haired man. He raised an eyebrow. He did not see a resemblance.

"Why is that?" asked Marluxia, trying to hold back his growing annoyed tone in preparation for the worst.

"As you can see, you both have chubby tummies!" said Alice in sheer delight, looking up to Marluxia. She pointed to the man's stomach and put her small index finger against his shirt to poke him. She giggled at her own gesture. The pink haired man tried not to frown. Instead, he held in his anger. He did _not_ think he was fat. He though he looked quite good, ravishing even. Then again, he had been eating at night when watching movies. Yes, the cookies could have added some pounds along with the gallons of ice cream and orange juice.

"Let's go Marluxia! Bye Alice! Remember, Dad is looking for you—he's in the den! Also, take care of Dinah, she's in the kitchen!" Demyx informed as he dashed towards the door and opened it. Marluxia said his good bye to Alice, lightly patting her head. The blonde girl curtseyed as Marluxia closed the door behind him.

"Nice kid."

* * *

"Alright, 40 cans of beans, 40 cans of chicken noodle soup. . ." counted Demyx as he pointed at the items on the concrete floor. 

His finger quickly moved among the groups of categorized can foods. Marluxia stood leaning against the car. His arms were folded in discontent. He glanced at the foolish person in front of him. With the way that Demyx was talking to himself, Marluxia thought the caramel-blond might as well be going insane. He didn't know why he had to be here. He did his good deed of purchasing food from a supermarket and then bringing it. He didn't expect having to unload it from the car nor counting and putting them inside the building known as the soup kitchen. That was somebody else's job. His mind wandered off to the upcoming photo shoot. The clothes were coming in next week for the stylist to take care of the final touches. He also thought of the interview after the photo shoot. He hoped that there would be good food being served there. He always liked those little French éclairs dipped in milk chocolate awaiting him at the end of the session.

"Marluxia, could you carry the boxes inside? My cousin Aerith is waiting. She'll direct you to where they are supposed to go." Demyx assured Marluxia.

The pink haired man noticed the blond walking towards the back door with three boxes in his hands. 'Demyx is in good condition,' Marluxia observed. He thought this fact vital, for his own safety next time they had an argument. He took notice of the box next to him and lifted it up with ease. He slowly walked towards the opened door. They were located in the back entrance of the building. At first, there was complete darkness, but as he walked the center's light gradually shone in and made contact with his sight. He kept on walking until he saw someone standing right next to the door frame. It was a girl of no more than 20 looking at him with a smile. She wore a pink bandana in her hair. Her green eyes glistened in the artificial light of the soup kitchen. She wore overalls; she was ready to serve the poor.

"Marluxia, thank you so much for coming! It is so good to see you! I'm so happy Demyx brought you. We now have more helping hands." She smiled, "This makes me glad." Aerith took the box from his hands and laid it down next to her. The box had just joined a large stack of cardboard boxes awaiting un-packagement.

"It's my pleasure, Aerith, really." Marluxia said as he forced a smile. He didn't want to disappoint her.

"All right! Everyone, can you please open the boxes and distribute them in the pantry?" a woman of about forty years asked the audience inside the kitchen. Marluxia hadn't noticed the quantity of people inside the kitchen before. Demyx was there, he was washing the dishes. A girl in her young teens was there, too, with her brown pigtails styled in a low fashion. A man of about thirty, too. He was rushing in and out with a clipboard in his hand. He looked quite scrawny and to add to the effect of a hard worker he was wearing circle-rimmed glasses.

"Marluxia, could you help Demyx?" Aerith asked, smiling, "I unpack and distribute these boxes. If you need anything feel free to ask."

"Sure. Thank you."

Aerith waved as she walked away. Marluxia sighed. He didn't like washing. That's the reason he had a maid to do the dirty work. He forcefully walked towards the sinks. He worried for his designer shirt—he didn't want it to be ruined by tap water. He wrinkled his nose as he saw the pile of dirty plates awaiting his care.

'What the hell did I do to deserve this?' he inwardly thought as he cautiously let his hand touch the sponge.

Demyx glanced at his companion. He knew this was tough on him, but he needed to see what life was really like—for everyone. He inwardly smiled as he saw Marluxia attempting to wash a plate. It looked like he had never lifted a finger in his life. Demyx knew this was not true, however.

"Marluxia, do you need help with the dishes? I can teach you how to wash them properly." Demyx offered as he scrubbed chicken off a plate and into the trash can next to him.

"No, I do not need your help, thank you." Marluxia bitterly said as he squirted soap onto a pan full of grease from the previous night of cooking. As he put down the bottle of soap, he roughly used the sponge to scrub away last night's residues. Water was splashing all over him. It came pouring up towards his face. He winced when the soapy water hit his cheeks.

"Shit." Marluxia muttered under his breath. No matter how hard he tried to get rid of the oily substance on the pan he simply could not—it was not possible. He scrubbed and scrubbed but nothing came off. His fingers started to turn red from all the hard labor he was doing.

"I need gloves, Demyx!" Marluxia frowned, "My fingers are going numb."

Demyx looked up at the man and stared in disbelief.

"Marluxia, why do you—"

"Do not argue with me, Demyx. I want the gloves. Now." Marluxia glared calmly. The kitchen was very hot. The ovens were cooking turkeys and the heat accumulated made it feel like the whole kitchen was the oven itself, roasting everyone present. Marluxia stared at Demyx, sweat building at his brow. He was serious and he was not going to back down from his request. Demyx sighed and left the bowl he was holding in order to look for the gloves that his lover required. The caramel-haired youth opened a cabinet and found a cardboard box with the words "Gloves" labeled on it. He ripped through the little perforated holes and extracted two rubber gloves.

"Here." Demyx said as he handed the pieces of latex to the persistent man. Marluxia took them without saying a thank you. He put one of them down on the sink and attempted to put the right one on. The material was indeed slippery and tight as he managed to get the first one on. He picked up the left glove from the sink with his uncovered hand. This was a difficult task indeed. He completed the task of "gloving" as he stretched the plastic on his well-moistened hands. He unwillingly scrubbed away in the kitchen regretting the day he agreed to this. A coughing sound was heard throughout the kitchen.

* * *

"Demyx, why are you not responding to my questions?" Marluxia inquired as he handled the wheel of his convertible. He was currently headed in the direction of his apartment. The night lights were turning on in the city, illuminating the streets. There was only a mere spec of star light glowing in the purple sky, a product of the air pollution. He accelerated as the red light turned green signaling him to proceed. The wind hit the faces of the two passengers in the car, as if reprimanding them for leaving the hood down. The air filled their lungs with the cool of the evening. The caramel-blond did not seem to enjoy the breeze; instead, he found it a disturbance to his face. It invaded his much-sought solitude of the moment. His gaze was not on the pink-haired man next to him but rather on the opposite side, out the window. He was far from paying attention to their passing surroundings. His hand was sustaining his head up. He felt tired and wanted to sleep, nothing else. 

"I asked if you wanted to eat." Marluxia repeated to Demyx.

This was the second time that he had presented the question to the youth; he had failed to answer the first time. Marluxia cast a quick glance in the direction of Demyx, keeping his eyes on the road.

As the night sky transformed almost black, the blinking, yellow caution lights became the sun and illuminated the drivers on the street. The convertible halted to a stop as it came closer to the white pedestrian walking line. Marluxia looked at Demyx again. He wondered why his passenger was so silent throughout the car ride. He saw no reason for hostile silence. Even though Demyx hadn't wanted to leave the soup kitchen so soon, it was clearly urgent for his designer shirt to be dry cleaned as soon as possible. His Gucci stripped shirt looked horrid in the condition that the coffee stain had left it in. As much as Marluxia tired to rid of the stain in the public restroom, he had failed miserably. Their cheap paper towels had aided in nothing. He inwardly wept for the expensive material of his attire. The horizontal red and black lines were not symmetrical anymore in thanks to the blob of dark brown splattered all over the fabric. Demyx should know that this is quite important. Marluxia needed to save his investment.

"I'm not hungry." muttered Demyx under his breath after a period of time since Marluxia initially asked the question.

"Are you sure? I think the only reason you're being so quiet has to be starvation." replied Marluxia as he started the car's movement once again in response to the green light's cue. Demyx turned his head and shot a penetrating glare at Marluxia. He couldn't believe that this man could be so oblivious. Could he not see his anger? Demyx stopped his inward cursing and decided to distract himself for the remainder of the car ride. Anger only breeds more anger, after all. He opened a compartment in the car and withdrew a CD case. He took out the disk and pushed it into the CD player. He continuously pressed an arrowed button to arrive at the track he desired. Marluxia glanced, amused. Demyx sat back in frustration of his life and awaited the beginning of the music. The powerful, roaring sound of the composition came into effect via the surround-sound system in the vehicle. Marluxia winced. The younger man slowly nodded his head as he listened to the music; he thought of nothing more but the penetrating guitars, the drums, and the vocals of the song.

"Demyx!" Marluxia yelled, annoyed, "Why are we listening to 'Drain' in the highest possible volume?" His voice was barely audible. Marluxia's ears felt like exploding the moment the guitars strummed next to him. This wasn't a front-row seat concert.

"I like the song." Demyx replied mater-of-fact, emotionless. "I'm 'drained' of energy. It fits my mood."

He really needed to escape the growing headache that the situation at hand had produced. Or rather, that Marluxia had produced. _X Japan_ always seemed to help the nasty feeling go away.

"I like it too, but does it have to be this loud?" Marluxia frowned, "The police might stop us and give me a ticket." He said this in a lower tone as he turned down the volume. "I hope you know that they can do that; it's called 'causing public disturbances.'"

Demyx returned the frown. He _really_ didn't feel like being contradicted right now. His hand reached for the volume's knob and quickly turned it to full capacity. Marluxia glared and turned the knob the other way. Demyx snorted and reached for the knob yet again and cranked it up for the sake of his own sanity. This little act was seriously frustrating Marluxia. He didn't want to hear music _this_ loud. Out of his growing impatience, then, he decided that if a compromise could not be reached concerning the level of volume, then there would simply be no music playing. At all. Marluxia irritably reached for the OFF button with one hand and left the other on the steering wheel. Demyx frowned and did not move. He didn't feel like arguing. He had no energy; he was tired and wanted to sleep.

"Is something wrong, Demyx?" Marluxia inquired with furrowed brows. What had caused this insane interplay?

'Good job for noticing, Captain Obvious!' Demyx thought, angrily. He wasn't going to bother and give Marluxia a response.

Marluxia glanced at Demyx. He saw a frown. The caramel-blond irritably shifted in the passenger's seat and turned his face completely, only allowing Marluxia the spectacular view of his head's posterior.

The pink haired man returned his attention to the road. With the night sky, there came a plethora of lights from the city. The businesses lit up their neon advertisements, one by one to lure in profit. As Marluxia continued driving, he couldn't help but read the names of the many fast food restaurants. There they were, tempting him with delicious, fried delicacies of pop culture, all magnified and advertised on lighted posters bigger than his car—the bastards. His stomach grumbled in lust of food. _Del Taco_, _McDonalds_, _KFC_—it didn't matter the letters, his mouth watered from the inside all the same, threatening to drown him.

Then, suddenly, he noticed from the corner of his eye some sort of radiant light from a dark public drive-way. He stopped the convertible at the red light and leaned his body right-side to get a better look. There stood a splendid looking kiosk, stripped red and white and adorned with bright, white bulbs everywhere—a mini circus of food. It called all out urgently, lovingly with its glow and delicious, traveling aroma.

"Hey, look Demyx!" Marluxia pointed, "A hot dog stand. I have the good fortune of finding one. Want one?" He unneededly asked while accelerating towards the stand the second the light turned green. They would be eating delicious, generic meat wrapped in a tall bun tonight. Demyx sighed and slumped into the seat even further, cursing. A sudden fit of coughing invaded his throat.

* * *

**A/N**: Ay, this took forever. Thank you all for waiting patiently! Seriously though, I am sorry there were only two updates this whole year. Happy holidays to all! Comments are love ♥

**E/N**: Augh, sorry about the 6 month + period of inactivity! It's my fault—I'll work hard to deliver the next chapters in a quickly manner, promise! Just as soon as Forsyte writes them … happy holidays :)


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